The Beauty of Narcissism
by Axel's Ashes
Summary: Kairi looks at the girl holding her hand and knows she has never loved anyone more. .:Kairi/Namine, KairixSora, rant-ish, Oneshot, loads of emotion:.


Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts.

Pairings: KairixNamine

A/N: Kind of rant-ish, isn't it? No plot here, not really, just feelings. Um, I suppose this would be around the time when Naminé saved Kairi from the cell-thing and they were running around all ridiculous-like. Except I added a few things :)

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Their hands are touching, their fingers are intertwined. She thinks it's like when she puts her hands together, wringing her fingers as she lays her hands in her lap. She remembers sitting alone on a beach, waiting for him, nothing but her own cold hands in front of her, nothing but her own shaking fingers reaching out for a horizon that leads to nowhere.

She looks at the girl and she remembers looking into the mirror, watching herself cry for a boy who left her alone, a boy she is steadily forgetting, but it's not the same because her hair isn't pale blonde, it's red. So why does she remember her own reflection? Why is it her own eyes gazing back at her, eyes that she has seen in glass, eyes that have cried so much that there's just nothing left to cry?

They're running, but it feels like she's alone. It feels like she's alone but she feels the company of herself, the company of a lonely girl, the very same company that's kept her alive all this time. She's being rescued again, but she's saving herself. It's really not the same as being rescued, she thinks, because it's not him, not Sora, and it's not Riku—it's a girl with pale blonde hair and skin that feels the same as her own.

She trusts this girl because it's like trusting herself—trusting herself like she did when she ran into the portal of darkness, trusting herself like she did when she let go of Sora's hand. It makes her remember the first time she tried to swim, something she taught herself, a little girl jumping headfirst off a dock into salty water. It's before she learned to rely on Sora and Riku, when she still relied on herself, when she still forced herself not to call for help, even though the water was closing in around her.

She already knows this girl, she always knew her. She met her a long time ago—at least, it seems like such a long time ago, with all the running and waiting—when she felt like the saddest person alive, when she felt like her heart was being torn from her, when she felt cold and alone, because Sora wasn't there when it happened, when her heart was ripped from her. She remembers this girl from back then, seeing her and knowing her, but not knowing her because it wasn't really herself she was seeing, but someone else with all her memories and none of her feelings.

She's running alongside the half of herself that's been missing for a very long time. She's got her back, finally, but what does she say?—she doesn't know what to say. She feels like she's mistreated herself, somehow, like she's abandoned a friend who really needed her help. What has the other half of her heart been doing all this time? Where has she been?

It's like loving Sora—loving someone who's not there, might not exist, but she's been waiting all this time.

It's like seeing the world she loved being overrun by darkness, and not really knowing what to think, not really understanding why her home and her friends are disappearing, why she's suddenly on a beach all alone with nowhere to go. It's that cold, empty feeling she gets when she thinks about Sora, when she curls up in the sand and holds herself because Sora isn't there to do it.

It's the little redhead scowling, angry because she's lost everything and she doesn't understand, heartless as her eyes go cold and her foot smashes all the pretty flowers around—they didn't do anything to her, they didn't, but they're still going to pay for how hollow she feels.

She remembers a white room, she remembers drawing—but she's never been very good at drawing, it just helps her remember, helps her sort out her thoughts. She remembers the cold desire to crush that boy because he's going to pay for how hollow she feels. She remembers wanting to be loved but not being able to love very much herself—but Sora can do it, and he does it, he makes her love again, and she wants to go home, back to the island, back to where her other half is, but it's already too late for that.

Kairi looks at the girl holding her hand and she feels admiration, adoration, completion. She feels like Sora's come home finally, but she knows he hasn't. She feels whole again, looking at this girl, because it's like looking at her reflection, the reflection that's kept her company.

She reaches out and holds the girl, wraps her arms around her tightly, because she has never loved anyone more than she loves this girl, this girl who has saved her so many times before, who has saved her when Sora couldn't. She knows it's like loving herself, it's the most awful narcissism anyone can ever have, but she can't bring herself to care because she's just so relieved.

Naminé has finally come home.


End file.
